Rin had always thought demons had no fashion sense. Like Mephisto in all his pink and purple, polka-dotted glory. But, even the demons who weren’t obviously colorblind were almost always a few decades – or worse, centuries - out of date.

So, when he heard people whispering about his clothes, it was a shock.

“....See that guy...”

“Looks like he just stepped out of 2020.”

Confused, Rin looked down at himself. Regular T-shirt. Regular pants. The shirt was faded and his pants' knees were worn, but that was normal enough. He looked the same as always. Then, he started comparing himself to the people around him and realized that was exactly the problem.

He had stopped aging sometime in his twenties, frozen forever at the age he reached physical and mental maturity. And, apparently, his tastes had frozen with him.